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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209425">All These Shorthand Forms of Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dooiney_Oie/pseuds/Dooiney_Oie'>Dooiney_Oie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Penumbra Podcast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>........4.9k. Whoops, And Gets One, Canon Non-Binary Character, Nureyev-typical repression, Other, Peter Nureyev Needs a Hug, Some adult references but nothing explicit, Started off as a snippet and ended up 4.5k bc of course it did, Which is your obligatory reminder that juno steel is nonbinary and it IS illegal to ignore this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:49:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27209425</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dooiney_Oie/pseuds/Dooiney_Oie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Serious summary:<br/><em>"He'd slapped around for the screen of his comms the second - or, maybe third - time that quiet, rapid-fire knock hit the door, and once he'd finished wincing at the light read the time at... four in the morning, ship-time. So, less than four hours. He'd stumbled out of bed and managed to smack the lights into a dim glow and the door lock well enough for it to open, and almost got punched in the head as a very clearly distressed Peter Nureyev tried to knock once again on a door that had just moved very graciously out of the way."</em></p><p>Joke summary:<br/>Juno: hey you should actually let yourself cry<br/>Nureyev: oh okay<br/>Juno: <em>WAIT HANG ON I DON'T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE THIS AND NEITHER DO YOU</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>193</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>All These Shorthand Forms of Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hellooo welcome to the projection zone ft. "Op rly wanted a hug and couldn't get one so they're gonna write fic about it"</p><p>No major warnings, I don't think? Some references to negative self image, and a few allusions to some adult activities here and there, but nothing too heavy going on here that I can think of</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>"You... can't cry?"</p><p>"I don't know about <em>can't</em>," Nureyev says - not quite defensive, but not casual, either. "I simply... don't. Not - I won't say <em>never</em>, but... well, close to it."</p><p>Juno watches his face as he looks away, avoiding his eye. He tries not to think about the fact that the only time he's seen Nureyev cry even a little was after a door had finally slid out from between them, and... well, he's trying not to think about it.</p><p>"I don't think that's good for you, Nureyev," he says instead, earning himself a much more defensive shrug than before as Nureyev shifts against the bed's headboard.</p><p>"It's not as if I mean not to. Sometimes, I... I feel like I <em>could</em>, but it just... passes. Usually quickly." Looking down at his knees, Nureyev's face is lit in captivating profile by Juno's bedside light as his brow furrows. "I suppose I trained myself out of it too well."</p><p>"Well, let's... train you back in, then. Crying is - it's good for you, right? It's... healthy and stuff. You gotta... feel your feelings, or whatever."</p><p>He's pretty sure the big guy had said something like that to him once or twice, which means it's probably right, Juno reasons. And he himself usually feels better after crying something out - these days, at least. But, Nureyev's lips purse together, and so all he can do for now is his best not to find that distracting during a serious conversation.</p><p>"I'm not so sure I want to, Juno. Keeping my physical reactions in check is a valuable skill, and--"</p><p>"I'm not talking all the time," Juno presses, reaching impulsively out for his hand on the sheets between them. "Just - how about, um - you try it when it's just you. On your own, I mean. Or, you can with me, too, if you want, but - if on your own is easier, then - I don't know. Just, next time you feel like you might, maybe - try letting it happen? See if it makes you feel better than just letting it pass."</p><p>He huffs in offense when Nureyev chuckles at his stumbling, as if the so-called master thief isn't exactly as awkward about this stuff as he is. Just because it isn't his turn right now doesn't mean that stops being a fact.</p><p>"Just try it," he grumbles, thumping their joined hands against Nureyev's thigh. "It's cathartic, I promise."</p><p>"Only for you," Nureyev replies smoothly, and it sounds like a tease, but Juno knows him better than that by now. The knowledge that he means every word sincerely makes his chest burn warm. </p><p>"I'll take it," he manages to reply through a stifled yawn. Checking his comms reveals the time to be much later than he'd thought, and he tries not to announce that fact with a pathetically forlorn sigh, instead asking as neutrally as possible, "You staying here tonight?"</p><p>There's a moment of hesitation before Nureyev shakes his head, an unspoken apology in the pause. "Not tonight. Tomorrow, maybe."</p><p>"'Mkay." Juno yawns wider this time, purposefully unbegrudging as he wraps his arms around Nureyev's skinny chest and locks them there. "You gotta pay the toll first, though."</p><p>"Remember who you're talking to, darling," Peter admonishes gently, and Juno snorts into his shoulder.</p><p>"Would it make you feel better if I called it a bribe?"</p><p>"Yes, I think that's definitely more like it," Nureyev chuckles. He tilts Juno's chin up to catch his mouth, and if he notices the full-body shiver he sets off with just that small contact he graciously ignores it. "Goodnight, dear heart."</p><p>"You're ridiculous. Who even talks like that?" Juno groans as he reluctantly allows Nureyev to extricate himself, repeating in his own mind that they're taking things slow, that Nureyev needs his space, and he can't just hold the man hostage in his bedroom all night just because he doesn't want him to go, no matter how tempting it is.</p><p>"Romantics and dramatics, generally."</p><p>"So I get a double dose, fantastic," Juno quips, unable to help a grin when Nureyev huffs an affronted noise as if he hadn't set up that parting shot especially for him to take. He's a dork, really, underneath all his pomp and circumstance. Juno loves him so much it almost hurts. And even though he's predisposed to find that thought a fearful one, the smile on his face doesn't seem to want to go anywhere, and especially not when Nureyev leans back in for his second bribe of the evening, and Juno steals a third. "Night, Nureyev."</p><p>If Nureyev minds the lack of return pet names, he doesn't show it. In fact, the way his eyes crinkle every time Juno says his name leads him to believe that he's doing a pretty decent job without them. </p><p>"Goodnight, dear detective."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Juno had expected to see the results of that conversation making themselves known in a few days, maybe. Or a week or two - or more, even. Not... well.</p><p>He'd slapped around for the screen of his comms the second - or, maybe third - time that quiet, rapid-fire knock hit the door, and once he'd finished wincing at the light read the time at... four in the morning, ship-time. So, less than four hours. He'd stumbled out of bed and managed to smack the lights into a dim glow and the door lock well enough for it to open, and almost got punched in the head as a very clearly distressed Peter Nureyev tried to knock once again on a door that had just moved very graciously out of the way.</p><p>"Oh," Nureyev had said, the picture of calm as he dropped his hand, and with his brain still half-asleep Juno had been forced to scramble for a second on where "distressed" had sprung to mind from with such conviction. Aside from the fact that he was standing outside of Juno's door at four in the morning, Nureyev seemed perfectly fine. Still in the draping silk robe he passed for pyjamas and sleep-tousled hair, sure, but his face looked calm, the light touch of freckles like the stars that he calls home just visible in the ship's night lighting...</p><p>...Which was what had given it away. Freckles meant no foundation, which meant that a man who Juno had never seen so much as venture out to the bathroom without faux-natural makeup had left his room without even a dab of concealer. Bad sign.</p><p>In the time it took for those thoughts to coalesce, Nureyev had started rattling off something that sounded in the region of an apology, but Juno hadn't bothered to tune into it before pulling him inside and shutting the door. Which left them in this position, now, with a startled Nureyev standing awkwardly in his doorway and Juno's brain frantically working overtime to play catch-up on the last thirty seconds.</p><p>"Wh'ssup?" he yawns as he tries to rub the sleep out of his head, turning away just long enough to get over to the bed and slump down on the edge of the mattress, which is when he decides it might be a good time to check on the state of his outfit. Still got his boxers on, that's a plus. Shirt's disappeared somewhere - not so great, but nothing Nureyev hasn't seen before. Cap's still in place - not his smoothest look, but again, nothing new. He's definitely looked worse. Definitely looked worse in front of Nureyev, who is... saying something. Shit.</p><p>"Wh-- Sorry, what?"</p><p>Nureyev stops with his mouth still open, and then shuts it into a pained smile. "You're tired. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have woken you - we can talk in the morning."</p><p>"No," Juno says quickly, flapping a hand after him when it looks like he's about to turn and walk right back out again. "No, it's - s'fine, just, gimme a second to wake up."</p><p>He scrubs a hand over his face, and somewhere in the middle of it realises he's not wearing anything over his missing eye, either, and tries not to dart too quickly for the patch on his side table to cover that mess up. Nureyev always says it doesn't bother him - and Juno believes him, too, mostly - but... still. It's not exactly a pretty picture.</p><p>It doesn't matter right now anyway. He yanks the thing on over his head for his own comfort, and determinedly stifles an oncoming yawn for Nureyev's. "So. You okay?"</p><p>Nureyev fidgets slightly on his feet, arms folded across his chest. Juno feels a pang in his chest at how uncomfortable he looks, not least because he knows he might well be one of the only people in the universe who have been allowed to see him that way.</p><p>"Well," Nureyev begins reluctantly. "Do you remember what we discussed earlier?"</p><p>Juno blinks at him. "Which thing?"</p><p>Nureyev clears his throat, shoulders winding up almost imperceptibly higher as he continues to avoid his eye. "You... said it wasn't good for me never to cry."</p><p>"...Oh-kay," Juno replies, waiting for him to elaborate. He tries to shake himself further awake, too, enough for him to take stock of the man in front of him again. Definitely not crying. Nothing around his eyes but dark circles - which isn't new; he knows by now that Nureyev is a chronic insomniac, and being awake at four in the morning isn't as unusual for him as it is for most people. Usually he doesn't appear bare-faced at Juno's door at that time, though, which is something he seems highly aware of as he rubs uncomfortably at his sternum, right where the cut of his robe exposes the warm tan of his bare chest. </p><p>Eyes up. Focus, Steel. Jesus.</p><p>"So... I tried," Nureyev is saying. "Like you said. And I can't."</p><p>"You... can't?" Juno repeats dully, before his head catches up with his ears and he finds the presence of mind to frown. "You didn't - I didn't mean for you to go and try to make yourself <em>sad</em>, Nureyev, I just--"</p><p>"I didn't, darling, not at all," Nureyev interrupts - completely matter-of-fact, despite everything. "I wasn't forcing it, I promise you, I only... was just, doing some unpacking - of thoughts, I mean, not physically - and the feeling struck me, and... I tried to - to not push it away, and..." He closes his eyes as he takes a deep, shaky breath and rubs his hand over his chest again, brow creased like he's trying to ease away an ache. "It's been over an hour, and it won't go anywhere. It's just... sitting there. I don't want to force it down, but I - I can't seem to make it come up, either."</p><p>Juno bites hard at his lip, willing his brain to wake the hell up and give him something to work with, here - even just repurposing something that Buddy had told him would work, it usually does, but he's drawing a blank. He's trying not too feel too much like Nureyev has brought him an injured baby bird and is asking him to make it better when Juno's already got five of his own that he's trying to figure out what the hell to do with, but - hell, he's hardly qualified to fix up someone else's problems when his own have given him so much goddamn trouble.</p><p>That doesn't mean he won't try, though. What else is he supposed to do, tell the poor guy sorry he can't help and send him back to his room to deal with it all by himself? Fat chance of that.</p><p>"Okay," he says uncertainly, and in that uncertainty decides to fall back on the first thing that Rita always suggests when he's feeling rough and worn down. "We could... watch a stream? Something sad, maybe that'll... I don't know, push it over the edge?"</p><p>Nureyev lets out a wry laugh, pain in his face. "I want to feel <em>better</em>, Juno, not <em>worse</em>."</p><p>Floundering, Juno wracks his brain for a few more moments, and then decides to throw a thought-out solution out of the window. He doesn't ask what Nureyev was thinking about that caused him so much distress, because that's not relevant right now, and if he'd wanted to talk about it he would have said so. Instead, he opens his arms and beckons Nureyev forward with his fingers. "C'mere."</p><p>Nureyev looks back at him as if imploring him to make a lick of sense, and so he beckons again. "C'mon. You need a hug, so get over here."</p><p>"You really think you can fix this with a hug?" Nureyev asks, with that fond-yet-doubtful look he generally reserves for when Juno is being an idiot about something. Or just petty, or whining, or - regardless, this isn't the time for that look, because for once Juno knows exactly where he's going with this.</p><p>"Look - either it works, and you get it all out, or it doesn't, and you get a hug," he shrugs back, arms still open. "Might as well give it a shot."</p><p>Nureyev's face turns impossibly fond, before he looks away. It takes Juno a moment to realise that his cheeks are flushed, and there's a tinge of shyness to the expression. "Well," he demurs, and clears his throat. "Any excuse for you to hold me, I suppose."</p><p>Juno snorts and rolls his eye. "Exactly. So get over here before I freeze, huh? Didn't have time to find my shirt."</p><p>"Mmn, I noticed," Nureyev purrs as he walks over, only for Juno to stall him with a hand on his stomach - he'd have gone for the chest if he had a hope of reaching that high while sitting down, but this'll have to work.</p><p>"Stop that."</p><p>Nureyev pouts down at him. "Stop what?"</p><p>"We are not being sexy when it's four in the morning and you need to cry."</p><p>"Darling, you are <em>always</em>--"</p><p>"Just shut up and cuddle," Juno snorts, hooking his hand into his robe and pulling him down next to him with a very un-Nureyev-like yelp. He hits the bed with a bounce and half-hearted glare, but Juno only smirks at him and spreads his arms again.</p><p>Nureyev reminds him of a cat sometimes, with the way he'll lift his nose into the air in offense or fuss over that one piece of stray hair that won't sit to his standards, or the way his teeth flash when he yawns, or - and this is the more relevant thing, here - when he tries to curl himself all the way around Juno's much broader frame like he's trying to absorb every ounce of body heat he can manage. Wrapping arms around his back in return can sometimes feel like hugging a giant, sentient piece of linguine, including the fear that something might snap if you squeeze too hard, but Nureyev is much stronger than he looks. His grip strength, gymnastic prowess, and a few hastily-enacted fantasies of being pinned against a wall somewhere nice and private have proven that well enough.</p><p>Juno likes holding him. And being held, too, but there's something about the feeling of all the artifice Nureyev surrounds himself with melting away in his arms, layer by layer until he's completely relaxed, that makes him feel like he could cry with happiness. He doesn't, because it would freak Nureyev out and he would start fussing and demanding that they swap their roles, and the moment would evaporate before he had time to appreciate it, but he really could. It means so much to have this man's trust back in his care after everything, and he's determined to savour being the only person who gets to see the closest thing to an unfiltered Peter Nureyev that probably exists.</p><p>So when he feels Nureyev's shoulders dropping and his weight against his shoulders getting heavier and the awkward angle of their embrace twisting his spine, he tries not to make a fanfare out of moving them up to the head of the bed for a little extra comfort. There are enough pillows around that he can comfortably sit half-upright with Nureyev's arms looped tight around his back, all but sitting in his lap with the gentle curve of his perpetually cold nose pressed into the crook of his neck. The right side of his neck, Juno notes, squarely in his blind spot where it's even harder for Juno to be able to look at him. He wonders, while it's quiet, whether that's instinctive, deliberate, or just a coincidence.</p><p>After a minute, Juno adjusts his hold, moving one arm to wrap firmly around Nureyev's waist, and the other... well, he starts to trail his other hand up and down the ridge of Nureyev's spine, but stops almost immediately when all of his muscles seize up under the touch and he lets out a tiny gasp into his shouder.</p><p>He doesn't have time to pull his hand away completely before Nureyev speaks up, though.</p><p>"Don't stop," he whispers, small-voiced and pleading. Juno can count on one hand the amount of times he's heard him sound like that - so uncharacteristically, fearfully vulnerable. So, as requested, he cautiously starts again, counting vertebrae under his fingertips and smoothing his palm as close to the skin as he can get through the silk of the robe, feeling everything underneath tense again before Nureyev breathes deeply in, and then shakily out, and pulls himself closer, shivering like there's a chill in the air.</p><p>It starts with a clearing of the throat. Then a cough. A hitch in his breathing. Small enough that Juno, focused on the steady, repetitive motion of his hand and the feel of smooth silk under his fingers, doesn't quite notice until Nureyev's chest hitches again,  and drops of warm water start to splash one by one against Juno's shoulder, and he's broken out of his reverie by a slightly panicked, "Juno, I - I think--"</p><p>"Oh," Juno croaks, only realising now, with Nureyev starting to muffle quiet sobs into his neck, that he is <em>so very unprepared for this</em>. "Okay - you're okay, that's - this is good."</p><p>"This d-- Doesn't feel <em>good</em> at - <em>a-all</em>," Nureyev manages around a series of heaving, uneven breaths, while Juno nods through his own panic and tries to sound more confident than he feels.</p><p>"I - it - it will, okay? Just ride it out. Breathe for me."</p><p>"I - <em>am</em> - b-b-- B--"</p><p>"Deeper than that," Juno says quickly, before he can completely choke on both his words and his pride at the same time. "And stop talking, too, just... let it happen."</p><p>To his credit, Nureyev does actually swallow back anything further and instead fully buries his face in Juno's shoulder while Juno continues to rub his back and hush him softly and tell him that he's okay, that he's fine, that Juno himself is right here and anything else that he thinks might be soothing to someone who hasn't cried properly in probably twenty years and seems to be playing catch up in a big way now that the gate is open. It's the least he can do after the amount of times Nureyev has done this for him by now. And he knows Nureyev must hate this, too, that he probably thinks he's being messy and ugly and weak right now even though he isn't any of those things at all, so the more reassurance he can give, the better.</p><p>...Well, maybe he is being messy. Juno's shoulder is starting to feel pretty soggy right about now, and he's pretty sure it's not just salt water on there. But it's fine - of course it's fine. He's made bigger messes within the last week, and his own face isn't feeling particularly dry either.</p><p>He's not actually sure how long it is before Nureyev finally tapers out; it's hard to tell when he's stopped completely seeing as he hadn't been particularly loud to begin with, but Juno puts his estimate at about ten minutes by the time the gasping has calmed, then faded to sniffling, and then long, deep breaths with only the occasional hitch punctuating the quiet. Even then, he still gives it what feels like a safe amount of time before finally shifting to let his spine realign with a much-needed crack, pressing a kiss to the side of Nureyev's neck behind his ear and asking, "Water?"</p><p>Nureyev nods minutely, adding a small noise of digust as he peels his face away from Juno's sodden shoulder and sniffs. "Please."</p><p>Juno leans over to his side table and passes him the bottle off of the top without looking while he searches for his tissues in the low light, knowing there's a box or a packet around here somewhere if he can just <em>find</em> the goddamn thing. Nureyev reaches over him to return the bottle after a second or two, and promptly buries his face against his back, only to return it to his neck when Juno sits back up again with a triumphant noise and a box of tissues in hand.</p><p>"C'mon," he says with a fond frown, nudging Nureyev's shoulder and trying to lean back enough to be able to see him with his good eye. "Lemme help."</p><p>But Nureyev clings firmly to his position, shaking his head. His face must be as close to bright red as it gets - Juno can feel the heat of it even without being able to look. "If you try to even <em>glance</em> my way right now, Juno Steel, I will never speak to you again."</p><p>Juno fights down a barking laugh of relief, knowing he'd be pushing his luck with it - but it sounds like Nureyev is feeling better, at least. "Alright, okay. Take a tissue, though."</p><p>He does, even if it is with all the haughtiness of a slighted monarch. Endearingly, though, he takes the time to clean up Juno's shoulder first before reaching for a second to tend to his own face, though Juno can only tell by the feel of it, seeing as he's not being allowed to look. There's only so far you can push a person in one night, he supposes, and as far as Nureyev and vulnerability goes, that had practically been a marathon. God knows it had taken Juno long enough to get that far, and he's still struggling even with the headstart.</p><p>"...So, uh... you feel any better?" he asks tentatively, after faces have been wiped and noses blown and Nureyev is leaning wearily against him again, breathing softly with only the occasional sniffle breaking the quiet.</p><p>"I don't know," he says, exhaling through the words like even that much is an effort. "I'm definitely tired."</p><p>"Let's get you back to bed, then," Juno offers - wouldn't be the first time he's carried an indisposed Nureyev to his destination - but Nureyev pointedly hugs him all the closer before he can move.</p><p>"There isn't a chance in the galaxy that I am risking one of the others seeing me in a state like this, Juno," he tells him, a terrified laugh just barely shaking his words. He sniffs again, and sets his forehead down against the top of Juno's shoulder with a sigh. "...I don't suppose I could impose on you after all?"</p><p>"Of course you can," Juno says without even hesitating, "You know I--" He stops, takes a moment to carefully pick his words. Don't mess this up, Steel. "I love having you in here, and you know you're welcome whenever you want, even if... I know I'm not always good company, but... even when I'm having a low day, it's, um - nice, to have someone to feel low with. As long as you don't mind it. And - same goes for if you, um, want someone to feel low with, too. Door's open. Well, not literally, but--"</p><p>Thankfully, Nureyev stops him before he can carry on rambling by kissing his temple, and finding his hand to squeeze before returning his chin to his shoulder. "Thank you, Juno," he says softly. "You know, I think-- I think I do feel better."</p><p>"Oh, good," Juno breathes, letting his head drop back against the pillows in sheer relief that he hadn't just pushed his boyfriend into a breakdown for no goddamn reason at all. "That's good."</p><p>"Mmn."</p><p>Ah. Well, if there's one indicator that Juno knows means Nureyev is barely able to keep his eyes open, it's a hum instead of a response. "C'mon," he smiles, hugging him close to his chest while he strains for the light and then subsequently tries to slide down the bed without dislodging one very sleepy thief from his chosen pillow. "I think we could both do with getting some sleep."</p><p>"I'm hardly tired," Nureyev mumbles from the darkness, as if he has no idea what he's talking about. "In fact, I should go wash my face, I'm sure my skin--"</p><p>"In the morning," Juno insists, taking the chance to interrupt as he breaks off into a yawn.</p><p>"It <em>is</em> morning."</p><p>"And you get pedantic when you're tired," Juno pokes, knowing he's won when Nureyev hums and wriggles down the bed to pillow his head on his chest instead of his shoulder with a contented sigh. He slings one ridiculously long leg across both of Juno's and stretches the other right the way down to the end of the bed, where his foot sticks out the end of the blanket and off the mattress. Juno snorts at him. "Comfortable?"</p><p>"Mmn, very."</p><p>"Good." </p><p>He takes a moment to get settled himself, suddenly remembering his slightly soggy eyepatch and finally finding his missing shirt shoved into a lumpy, uncomfortable pile underneath his pillow and throwing both to the floor to deal with in the morning. Returning his arms to sit around Nureyev's shoulders, he's not even sure whether his words are gonna be heard when he sighs out, "I'm proud of you, y'know."</p><p>Nureyev, who was apparently awake after all, lets out a startled, strangled laugh - a sound that borders somewhere on the hysterical, especially for him. "What in the galaxy for? Making a complete mess of your shoulder?"</p><p>"For letting it out," Juno yawns, smoothing Nureyev's hair away from his face and then trailing his fingers back through it along his scalp in waves and circles. "And asking for help when you needed it. I know that's not easy."</p><p>Nureyev leans into it by slow degrees, turning his face further into Juno's torso with a sigh that sounds back-breakingly heavy. "How do you always do that?"</p><p>"Do what?"</p><p>"Make me want to lay myself bare for you to look at," he murmurs, and Juno's heart kicks against his ribs.</p><p>"Hey, I told you no sexy talk," he teases nervously, which earns him another, less watery laugh, and then another deep sigh as Nureyev resettles his cheek against his chest. "And you can get your face out of my tit while you're at it."</p><p>"But it's so comfortable," Nureyev replies with an audible pout, "and I've been through such an ordeal."</p><p>"Oh, well if it's therapy," Juno snorts, pleased to be able to feel a smile twitching across Nureyev's face in response, and a quiet laugh against his skin.</p><p>...Then it's quiet. Nureyev's fingers are moving in idle patterns over his chest, pushing slowly through the hair there, so Juno knows he's not asleep yet - just thinking. He tries not to yawn too much while he waits, either for the thought to come out of his mouth or for sleep to finally take them both.</p><p>"...It's awful, you know," Nureyev mumbles eventually. "It goes against everything I--" There's a pause while he struggles for words, which tells Juno everything he needs to know about how important the next part is. "Everything I've done my whole life."</p><p>That's the thing about Nureyev; for as good as he is at talking, and as much as Juno knows he's trying to express himself honestly, he has a tendency towards the indirect. Often, what he's really saying needs a second look-over to find, and despite his abrupt change of career, seeing things that people are trying - deliberately or not - to hide, is still Juno's speciality. It's one of the reasons they work, now that real foundations have been established and Juno has enough confidence to hear a sentence like that and not hear <em>"you're not worth all this discomfort"</em> but <em>"I'm scared of this, but I'm trying. For you, I'm trying."</em></p><p>And Juno can say "I know," and mean <em>"I know it's hard, and thank you for trying, and thank you for knowing I'm trying too,"</em> and crane his neck to press a kiss to his hair and know that all the unsaid words aren't going unnoticed, because they've all been said before and they'll be said again, just not right now. In the meantime, <em>"I know"</em> is shorthand the same way Nureyev squeezing him tight around his middle is shorthand, the same way <em>"good morning"</em> is short for <em>"I love you"</em> and the same way <em>"I love you"</em> is short for the entire galaxy of words that a tiny collection of sounds can't possibly hope to hold. It only works if you take the time to learn the long way first, but at four in the morning when everyone's tired and at least one of you is weepy and sore, the short route works just fine.</p><p>"Wind the internal monologue down and go to sleep, love," Nureyev yawns into his chest, and Juno laughs at him and at himself and summarises every feeling he has in that moment very succinctly when he tells him, unmistakably fondly, to shut up.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a kudos and/or comment for me to enjoy too! ❤</p></blockquote></div></div>
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